


and i'll lay right down in my favorite place

by ficfucker



Category: Rhett & Link
Genre: Blow Jobs, Established Relationship, Kink Exploration, M/M, Praise Kink, Puppy Play, Submissive!Rhett, fluff in there too ig, the usual for my fics idk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-21
Updated: 2019-06-21
Packaged: 2020-05-16 04:01:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,558
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19310206
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ficfucker/pseuds/ficfucker
Summary: link throws rhett a bone





	and i'll lay right down in my favorite place

**Author's Note:**

> kink ideas haunt me until they manifest in my google docs as fics 
> 
> title from 'i wanna be your dog' by the stooges

__

Rhett stands in their shared bathroom, naked, and looks at himself in the mirror. He has black knee pads on. Link had suggested getting gloves or looking at masks, but Rhett is still new to this whole thing and diving headlong in is too intimidating. 

 

He’s been willing his erection down for the last ten minutes, at least, but anticipation sits in his stomach like a warm stone. 

 

Down the hall, he can hear Link moving furniture again. 

 

Part of Rhett wants to pretend this is all a skit for their show. He’s here to “yes, and?” Link until it’s over and if he doesn’t like it, they’ll never do it again. Acting, putting himself into that mindset, would remove him from the scene and he knows it. The other part of Rhett, the part of Rhett that had worked up mentioning this for over a month, knows he has to submit to his role and stay in the moment. He has to be present with Link. 

 

There will be a bigger payoff for the both of them, sexually and emotionally, if Rhett doesn’t put up a front. 

 

That means feeling foolish and embarrassed. That kind of turns Rhett on in a way he’s not ready to face. Not even alone in a bathroom. 

 

Rhett tries to scroll through his phone, focus on social media, until Link calls him out, but his mind keeps wandering away. He’s very aware he’s naked, leaned up against the sink, looking blankly down at the glowing rectangle in his hand. 

 

Link raps his knuckles on the door and Rhett startles. “You can c’mon out, Rhett,” he says softly.

 

“I… I’ll be out in a minute!” Rhett replies. His heart rate is up. If he had a tie to straighten or a shirt to smooth, he’d be doing that, but Rhett is stock naked. 

 

He hears Link pad away down the hall, probably waiting for him in the prepped living room. “Oh, gosh,” he whispers to himself. “Okay, here we go.” Rhett opens the door, exits the bathroom, closes it. Slowly, he kneels, then presses his palms flat to the hardwood floor. 

 

A Link voice in his head warns him, “Careful on that back of yours now, bo,” but he’d done a lot of stretches, a session of yoga that morning just to be safe. 

 

The kneepads press into him dully, cushioned, and it comforts him oddly. He tilts his head to the left to see if he can spot Link, and he can; Link is on his phone, sitting on one of the stools at the breakfast bar that connects their living room to the kitchen. His ankles are crossed. He’s changed into a pair of dark red slim-fit pants, pulled on an acid-wash grey and black Mythical sweatshirt. To Rhett, he looks gentle yet expectant, like he’s about to observe Rhett for show. 

 

Rhett takes a hesitant step in his new position. It feels alright, so he takes another. Then another. And then he’s come far enough down the hall that’s he’s gotten Link’s attention. 

 

Link sets his phone down on the counter and his face warms into a smile. He immediately lowers down to a squat, reaches a hand out. He rubs his middle finger against his thumb and says, “Hey there, boy,” in a hushed, coaxing voice. 

 

Rhett averts his eyes and lowers his head. It’s already embarrassing enough that he’s naked while Link is fully clothed. “Ohoho,  _ gawsh _ ,” he whispers to himself. 

 

“Hey, now, dogs don’t speak,” Link scolds. There’s a silly lilt to his voice. 

 

Rhett glances back up and they hold eye contact. Link smiles big enough that a white flash of his teeth show. “C’mere, boy. I won’t hurtchya.” Link pats his thigh. 

 

Rhett exhales out his nose and awkwardly strides over to Link, not yet used to shuffling around on his hands and knees. He places his chin on Link’s thigh and closes his eyes like he’s seen real dogs do a hundred times before, and Link’s fingers start to rake through his hair. 

 

Link’s hands smell like artificial lemon, the sharp, tangy kind used in most disinfectants. Rhett, caught up in the anxious excitement of the scene, hasn’t even taken in the room. He slips one eye open and glances around. 

 

The couch and coffee table have been pushed aside, making the room seem a lot larger. In one corner is a white dog bowl printed with red fire hydrants, which Rhett assumes is filled with water. A few dog toys are stacked next to the bowl: a blue chew bone, a soft looking duck, a purple and yellow tug rope. The floor looks shiny and clean, something Link has probably been dying to get on outside of kink being an excuse to do it. 

 

Link lifts Rhett’s chin up, getting him to open both eyes.  “Golly, look at you. Big as a Great Dane, aren’t ya?” 

 

Rhett blushes and presses his cheek into Link’s palm. He pauses then “brrroof!”s softly. The noise startles him, like it came from somewhere outside of him, but he fights the urge to use any real words. 

 

Link chuckles and stands. Rhett takes a half step back. Rhett can feel his cock hanging heavy between his legs, bare to the world (which happens to be just Link), and he tries to think dog-like. What do dogs do? 

 

“Oh, whoa, boy,” Link gasps out. His fingers are back in Rhett’s hair.

 

Rhett has his nose buried in Link’s crotch and he breathes in deep. Link smells clean, like Tide soap, but under that Rhett can smell something earthy and familiar. It stirs something inside him, inhaling Link’s scent. He sniffs a few more times and nudges his nose against Link, silently soaks in the little noises Link makes each time Rhett presses into him. 

 

“Friendly, I see,” Link remarks once Rhett has shuffled back. His cheeks are ruddied. 

 

Rhett yips in response. 

 

Link giggles. “You behave today an’ I’ll make you mine, pup. How’s that sound? You wanna be my dog?” 

 

Instinct tells Rhett to nod and with the warmth snaking through his body, he almost slips from his role. Instead, he wriggles his butt awkwardly in the air. He doesn’t have a tail and arching himself into a wagging position is beyond humiliating, but Link reacts with a clap and a smile. 

 

“Sounds good, don’t it? I got some treats if you can prove to me you can behave.” Link goes to the counter and produces a clear plastic container of cheese balls. 

 

Rhett barks approvingly. He’s becoming less self conscious by the second. Link is clearly indulging him to completion here; there aren’t any weird thresholds to cross. With all they’ve done together, there usually aren’t many in the first place. 

 

“Guess there’s no point in teachin’ ya how to speak, huh? Already got that one covered!” Link peels off the purple lid and holds a single cheese ball between his fingers. “Can you sit for me? You know how to sit, boy?” 

 

Briefly, Rhett wonders what would happen if he refused or played dumb. Rhett isn’t so much a brat, rather stubborn and sometimes exceedingly shy in being the center of sexual attention, so he obeys and sits with his fists like two pillars in front of him. He looks up at Link expectantly. 

 

“Good boy! First try an’ everything.” Link leans over and holds out the cheese ball, which Rhett sniffs at. He takes it and just because he can (and maybe he should), Rhett licks Link’s fingers clean of orange dust. Rhett crunches his treat, grins when Link shudders. 

 

“Alright. Now: lie down!”

 

Again, Rhett obeys and splays himself out so his stomach touches the cool of the hardwood. His erection also presses lightly against it. He sucks in through his teeth. Rhett is still curious as to what will happen if he doesn’t follow instruction. 

 

“That’s such a good boy! Already so well trained, golly,” Link praises. He holds out another cheese puff and Rhett takes it just like last time. He sucks Link’s index finger into his mouth and watches, delighted, as Link’s eyes kind of haze over, go unfixed. 

 

Link wipes his finger off on his jeans, clears his throat like he’s composing himself, and says, “Roll over, pup.” 

 

This is where Rhett plays dumb. He cocks his head and gives Link a blank, curious look. 

 

“Roll over, boy,” Link repeats. He does a twirling motion with his index finger. 

 

When Rhett doesn’t move, Link squats down next to him and places a palm flat to his ribs. “C’mon, now,” Link whispers, encouraging yet firm. He gives Rhett a nudge and he doesn’t give, so the nudging turns to genuine pushing, Link’s hands cupping the bare sides of Rhett and turning him over until he’s fanned out on his back. 

 

“There ya go,” Link murmurs. 

 

Rhett wants to act on canine instinct, like give Link a big lick on the side of the face or even just bark again, but in this position, Rhett is more vulnerable than ever. His arousal is on full display, his cock hooked into the curve of where his hip meets his thigh, and he can feel droplets of precum as they gather and puddle. He lays an arm over his eyes and breathes through his mouth. 

 

“You alright, bo?” Link asks, sincere. 

 

Rhett nods. Link doesn’t touch him. Rhett breathes out a few more times before letting his arm slack away and he looks up at Link. He brings his hands up so his arms are bent at the elbow, hands cupped down so they dangle like paws. “Bar-ruff,” he says. 

 

Link giggles and ruffles Rhett’s hair, assured that they’re okay to continue the scene, and he says, “You’ve been so good, boy. Well enough that I reckon I could call you mine. Think you could handle being collared?” 

 

Rhett flushes. He wishes Link would touch him between the legs, touch him somewhere other than just mussing with his hair, but the praise is enough to hold him over. He barks in a way that he hopes sounds enthusiastic. Rhett would very much like to be collared. 

 

Link grins, stands, and near to where the container of cheese puffs is, he grabs a blue, orange, and white aztec pattern dog collar. A silver bone pendant hangs from the main loop, engraved with “RHETT” in stenciled capital letters. Rhett’s heart skips a beat. He stays on his back as Link walks back over calmly, watches as he unclips the collar and kneels down to clip it around his neck. 

 

The buckle connects audibly, like a Lego being snapped into place, and Rhett angles his head to lick approvingly at Link’s palm. “Now you’re mine, Rhett,” Link tells him. It’s the first time Link has used his name since calling him into the room. 

 

Rhett quivers. Little strings of translucent precum hammock from his cock head to his thigh and his breathing is shallow. 

 

“Look atchu. Handsome as the devil,” Link compliments. He lays a palm to Rhett’s stomach and the skin there jumps involuntarily. Tenderly, Link starts rubbing circles, running his fingertips through the thin, curly hairs on Rhett’s belly. His hand is warm and it feels good contrasted to lying on the cool of the floor. 

 

Rhett whines in the back of his throat, a needy whimper, and he wiggles slightly from side to side. His collar clinks and that noise alone makes him blush harder, his ears burning like coals. 

 

Link purposefully drags a finger through the precum that’s collected on Rhett’s hip bone, smears a trail of it over Rhett’s stomach. He still does not touch Rhett’s erection. Rhett knows Link likes to string him out this way. 

 

Even in his frustration, Rhett likes it, too. 

 

Link stands suddenly and Rhett can’t bite back a groan from the lack of contact. “I think you’ve earned some play time, Rhett. You wanna play for a bit, boy?” 

 

Rhett rolls himself over, careful not to tweak his back or crush his boner between his thighs. He lowers his shoulders and lifts his rear, does his silly butt shimmey. 

 

Link goes over to the toy corner and lifts the chew bone. Rhett shakes his head. Link holds up the tug rope, gives it a twirl, and Rhett barks his favor. He trots over to Link who lowers it to let him bite and he grips onto the frayed cloth end of the rope, which wets and sticks to the top of Rhett’s tongue. 

 

Rhett yanks back, hard yet careful. He doesn’t want to hurt his teeth or pull something in his shoulder. Link giggles shrill, like he’s excited and caught off guard. They pull back and forth for a minute, both of them giving more easily than they normally would in any other playful, competitive situation. 

 

Without letting go of his end of the rope, Link sits on the floor and tugs Rhett in close. “You’re a silly boy, Rhett,” Link says. He kisses Rhett on his nose and Rhett, with the rope still clenched between his teeth, shakes his head, backs up a step. Link’s grip loosens and he can’t reclaim it in time. 

 

Rhett sits on his haunches and shakes his head with force, whipping the braid from side to side. 

 

“Oh, you think you won, pup?” Link laughs. 

 

Rhett drops the toy, tosses his head back, and howls. He sounds like an overdramatic husky and his “wooooo” breaks off into a fit of giggles. 

 

He goes over to the dog bowl and looks at it, quizzical, for a second. He dips his chin in, then his nose, and tries his best to get at least a mouthful of water. Rhett comes away sputtering, his beard wet, his nose scrunched up. 

 

Link wheezes, “Get o’er here, you mutt.” 

 

Rhett grins and plops himself in Link’s lap, nuzzles his face into Link’s neck, rubs his wet facial hair against him. Link's hands rub up and down his back, squeeze his ass, cup his shoulders. Rhett wants to ask Link to get undressed, too, but it feels like they're still in the scene and Rhett doesn't want to break it. Link would probably just laugh and ask, "Since when do dogs talk, Rhett? An' dogs have a concept of nudity?" 

 

Link scratches at Rhett's beard and holds his face in his hands. "You've been good today, Rhett," he says. He leans in and kisses Rhett fully, slips his tongue past his parted lips, and Rhett moans. He rolls his hips into the empty space between them in a desperate search for friction, but finds none. 

 

“Good boys deserve rewards,” Link hums in a deep whisper. He hooks his index finger into the silver loop on Rhett’s collar and pulls him forcefully closer. Their noses touch. 

 

“Oh, gosh,” Rhett whispers back. 

 

Link grins and his free hand wraps loosely around Rhett’s cock, grips him feather-light and slowly twists his wrist. Rhett lets his tongue loll from his mouth and he pants. He rocks his hips into Link’s palm, which is already slick form the precum he’s gathered off Rhett’s cockhead. 

 

“You rutt jus’ like a dog,” Link comments. 

 

Rhett makes a strangled noise, goes to pull back, but Link still has him held close by the collar. It feels good, the way the collar digs into his neck when he tries to wriggle free. He doesn’t want to move from Link, just give them enough room that Rhett can unzip Link’s pants, at the very least. 

 

Link says, “You ain’t gotta focus on me. This is about you.” 

 

Rhett whimpers, starts to stammer out protest, and Link silences him with a kiss. He gives a long, tight tug, and Rhett sees stars behind his eyelids. He cranes his neck back. His adam’s apple bobs as he gasps, slips under the collar then pops right back up.

 

Link’s hands are rough, colloused on the pads, but his palm is soft, silk smooth, his fingers long and angular. To Rhett, everything about Link is so attractive, especially in this moment, he could worship the man’s wrists; get down on his knees and kiss each fingertip, thank him for taking mercy and finally touching him. 

 

“Gosh, look at you, boy.” 

 

“Killin’ me, bo,” Rhett groans. Link is working him loose and sloppy again. It keeps him on edge, not enough stimulation to get him to finish, and Link knows it. 

 

“Whut’s this then? Rigor mortis?” Link hefts the weight of Rhett’s erection in his palm and snickers, amused. 

 

Rhett looks back down at Link and some of his hair falls into his eyes. “ _ Please _ .” 

 

Link grins and leans, kisses Rhett on the neck near his ear. “Dogs don’t talk last time I checked.” He lets go of Rhett’s collar and nudges him off his lap so he can stand. He unzips his pants. 

 

Entranced, Rhett watches as Link steps out of his pants and boxers, looks at his boyfriend’s arousal unabashedly. He particularly likes Link’s pubes, how dark they are, the way they curl in thick tendrils, though still tamed. Him and Link both trim, sometimes together as an act of intimacy. 

 

Link does not take off his hoodie. He curls a finger in a “come here” motion and Rhett crawls over to him. Link holds his cock by the base and presses it down, pokes it against Rhett’s lips. Rhett kisses it in response, presses his tongue lightly over the slit. 

 

“Tease,” Link mutters before his cock slides willingly into Rhett’s mouth. Rhett is thankful for the kneepads. 

 

Rhett watches him from under his lashes, observes the way Link’s face pinches with pleasure as he bobs his head. He moves Link’s hand out of the way, replaces it with his own. Rhett’s collar clinks metallically with his movements, swinging the small marker of ownership. He glides his hand as he sucks, makes positive there isn’t a single second where Link is not feeling him. 

 

“That’s good, Rhett.” 

 

“Mmm.” 

 

“Real good,” Link continues. His slender fingers are carding through Rhett’s floppy hair. “You been dyin’ to do this? Wantin’ to be my dog, Rhett?” 

 

Rhett swallows thickly. Drool is starting to leak out the corners of his mouth, collect in the fields of his beard in shiny threads. He hums again. 

 

Link moans softly, huffs out a breath. His fingers curl into Rhett’s hair, but don’t pull. “You can touch yerself, y’know.” 

 

That’s all Rhett needs to hear. He wraps his left hand around himself and jerks in rapid strokes, keeps his lips sealed tight over Link’s cock as he works himself. 

 

“Look atchu, Rhett,” Link says, breathless. He starts to thrust into Rhett’s mouth now, holds Rhett in place by his hair. Rhett is fully drooling, thin threads of it slipping past his bottom lip and hanging off his beard. There are tears gathered in the corners of his eyes. 

 

Rhett makes an indistinguishable noise around the intrusion in his mouth. His stomach tightens and quivers, his thighs quaking. He pulls back, panting, and cranes his head away from Link’s grip so he can focus on himself for however long it takes to get him there. He’s so close. “I’m- Lord, Link, I’m gunna-” 

 

“Rhett, I’m gunna come, too,” Link groans. “Go on. C’mon, Rhett wanna - wanna see ya.” 

 

Rhett grunts and spills over in his hand, drips onto the hardwood. His shoulders are hunched, his lower stomach clenched tight as he pumps himself empty in thick ropes. “Oh, gosh, Link,” he whimpers, his voice broken. 

 

Link makes a noise above him and Rhett barely has enough sense about him to look up. He opens for Link, takes his head back into his mouth while Link carefully jerks his shaft. His hands are trembling. One lands on Rhett’s shoulder as if to balance himself. 

 

“Oh, Rhett, my good boy, my good mutt,” Link cries. He continues his praise, a mindless babble as he comes into Rhett’s mouth, salty and warm, and Rhett obediently swallows it down in two quick gulps. Rhett gingerly pulls away, parts his lips to lick them, and feels the strands of come suspended between them. 

 

Link sighs deeply. He offers a hand out to Rhett, who takes it, and follows him on stumbly feet over to where the couch is pushed. They slump on it together. Link unstraps Rhett from his knee pads. Rhett’s head is resting on Link’s chest. His sweatshirt is soft and smells like him, prompting Rhett to inhale deeply. 

 

“I’ll clean up in a bit. An’ we can get the livin’ room back in order then,” Link says in a hushed voice. He's lazily running his fingers through Rhett's rucked up hair. "Shower together after." 

 

"Sounds good," Rhett mumbles. Link's bare thighs are warm against his own. He still has his collar on and Link flicks the tag. 

 

"Next time," Link whispers, into the shell of Rhett's ear, "you're getting a leash an' cage muzzle."

 

Rhett squeezes blindly at Link's shoulder, his eyes closed. "I've opened Pandora's box wit' you." 

 

Link kisses Rhett's hair, pats him on the rear. "You ain't even know the half of it yet." 

 

They say sleepy "I love you"s and Rhett dozes off not moments after, holding onto Link, still in his collar. 

**Author's Note:**

> kudos + comments if you enjoyed!
> 
> talk to me on tmblr @ficfucker


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